


die Anerkennung

by angelovhb



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8556673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelovhb/pseuds/angelovhb
Summary: The happenings between a lieutenant and a spy, and the ways in which they rely on one another.





	1. Moment Eins: Drinking Game

**Author's Note:**

> I am quite inconsistent in new content, as I am busy with examinations now. Apologies.  
> Additionally, I will be consistently improving the posted chapters as I believe they lack substance.  
> Do write criticism about my work, it is the best thing I could ask for.
> 
> genießen.

Sakuma opened his eyes.

It had only been a few nights since the D-Agency’s involvement with the Gordon case, and his state of mind was yet to recover from the slightly unnerving situation where he almost performed hara-kiri. He was still attempting to absorb the events of the previous days, and for some peculiar reason, he did not feel comfortable in falling asleep in that room. He was an Imperial Army graduate yet the lieutenant disliked feeling so unguarded amongst a building which trained such monstrous spies.

His mind returned to the incident at the double spy’s home and furrowed his brows. He had acted without focus, and that too, in front of all the D-Agency spies. As he repeatedly replayed the scenes of that fateful morning, he became quite concerned—noticing that the spies behaved a bit too eager upon falsely reporting that no evidence was found of Gordon’s codes.

He sighed in the realisation of their mockery. “Those spies will be the death of me.”

“You couldn’t _possibly _be talking about us right, Sakuma-san?”__

Sakuma’s eyes widened and his muscles tensed, his upper body immediately shooting upright at the sound of the dreaded voice—one of many, in fact. Though he did not have any desire to, he turned to face its owner, and there stood one man with a rather short build. The shortest, if he was correct.

“Hatano,” Sakuma began. “I didn’t think you would return so soon. Are you not going to accompany the others with their usual games downstairs?”

“They have not yet returned, Sakuma-san. It is merely me and Miyoshi.” Sakuma became a little more alert when he heard Miyoshi’s name being uttered.

“Is that so? I’m surprised. The two whom I did not expect to return early on a night out, became the first to put down their drinks.” Hatano did not miss the lieutenant’s small peak in interest.

A corner of Hatano’s lips curled in a lousy manner, and his right hand slipped into his trouser pocket. His suit blazer was slung over his left arm, and the first two buttons of his shirt had been unbuttoned. Sakuma thought of Miyoshi when he saw how Hatano seemed so lax. It was only then, that Sakuma had realised the soft flush of the spy’s cheeks and the overwhelming scent of alcohol.

“Hatano, just how much did you dr- “

“Miyoshi is outside this building. I left him on the steps.”

At this point, Sakuma had already gotten up and thrown on an overcoat, dismissing the fact that Hatano cut him off mid-sentence. Though it irked him, he didn’t feel like reprimanding the other male. When Sakuma walked past the mentioned spy, he placed his hand on his shoulder and reminded him before he left.

“Freshen up and head to bed, Hatano.”

 

* * *

 

A cold breeze attacked Sakuma’s open neck, and he grimaced. To think that Hatano had just left his spy mate out in such an unwelcoming temperature, presumably in a drunken state too. Hatano was truly devilish. However, speaking of the spy, he was not on the stairs as Hatano had told him he was. Had Hatano just been lying about him and Miyoshi returning together to make the poor lieutenant experience the negative levels of heat? Sakuma muttered non-cursive curses under his breath and was about to head back inside when he heard a faint mumbling other than his own. In fact, it sounded more like whining.

The lieutenant didn’t need to think twice before guessing whose mouth the noises came from.

_Miyoshi._

“Miyoshi, where are you?”

There was an uncomfortable silence which lasted enough to cause concern within Sakuma when a feeble voice replied.

“The... cart.”

The army man’s gaze fell upon a slightly worn down cart, one which was used to deliver goods from fresh foods to secretive spy documents. It amazed him how no one had any suspicions about that said cart. He never once saw it out of place unless there was a delivery it had to journey for. Or maybe it already survived multiple attacks, and Sakuma was the only ignorant one.

“ _Sakuma-san_." 

He had been called for by Miyoshi, and the man thought that it would be best for him to see how the spy is doing, rather than being troubled by minor issues. For Miyoshi’s wrath, would be far more devastating than war itself.

When Sakuma approached the cart, he was not prepared for the sight he was going to witness. As soon as his eyes laid upon the contents of the cart, he was taken aback—no, he was shocked. Though he kept quiet, his mouth was ajar by several millimetres in response to the state that Miyoshi was in.

There, inside the rough of the cart, lay Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki’s star student, showcasing his everything for any passer-by to witness, had they heard his whimpering. His hair was extremely out of place, every strand of his dark locks reaching out in limitless directions. His shirt had little to no buttons which were still sewn into it, and the thread was noticeably pulled out. It was as if the wearer had been too intoxicated, too wild, to sensibly unbutton his shirt. Of course, such a display of the shirt revealed what could have been the fairest skin the lieutenant had ever laid his eyes upon. With every high of a heavy breath, the man could see the subtleness of the spy’s ribcage, and the feminine curve of his torso. His lips were faintly chapped but the way in which the prettiest shade of blush seemed to bloom over the arcs of his cheek and top of his ears only evoked _pure fascination._

Sakuma averted his gaze, a loosely fisted hand covering the lower half of his face. Only those with the sharpest eyes would have seen the forming dust of red lurking underneath the lieutenant’s skin.

It only took a moment for Sakuma to look away and back to Miyoshi for the latter to awake. Sakuma immediately regretted his decision to return his eyes to the visual pleasure.

Miyoshi’s eyes were boring the strongest gaze into Sakuma’s own startled pair, and in that moment, Miyoshi appeared so incredibly inhumane for someone who was the holder of such destructive beauty. Sakuma was nothing less than stunned.

“Sakuma-san, come closer.” He ordered.

Sakuma obliged without any resistance and bent low to Miyoshi until they were several breaths of distance apart from one another. The gaze was still held, before Miyoshi looked away, and whispered with splendid diction.

“Would you care to lend me that coat? _I’m terribly cold _.”__

Whilst he was busy admiring Miyoshi's looks, Sakuma had completely forgotten the reason as to why he was here in the first place. With a sense of hurry, Sakuma removed his coat and wrapped it around the smaller male. He hoped his body warmth in the coat would be enough to stop or at least decrease the shivers Miyoshi broke out in every now and then.

"I'll move you inside, Miyoshi."

"Don't. Let me stay here for a while longer."

During that 'while', Sakuma thought of unsettling events. He had a flashback to what happened the first night he discovered the existence of the Joker Game, and a single statement vociferated throughout his body:

**Japan will lose the war.**

Thinking that it was an ill-omen to speak of his country's future in such a way caused the lieutenant to despise his own mind and question his sanity. Japan would never lose. Or even if they did, he would refuse to believe it. He thought of the spies in the D-Agency. He thought of Lt.Col Yuuki. He thought of his classmates, back when he was still training to become a part of the army. He thought of his family. He thought of his future.

"My future, hm?" He looked at Miyoshi, still recovering from the ever decreasing cold. 

After a few silent minutes, Sakuma noticed that Miyoshi's previously erratic breathing had calmed, and when he called out for him to no response, the lieutenant concluded that he was fast asleep. Then, with the most careful touches, Sakuma lifted the spy from the cart and the latter instinctively leaned to the newfound source of heat. 

Sakuma wasn't able to witness it himself, but the spy in his arms slept whilst wearing the most alarmingly pleasant expression.

**das Ende.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danke.


	2. Moment Zwei: Mind Game

“So what I am _trying_ to say is, that I witnessed our one and only Sakuma-san…—you wouldn’t even believe it.”

”Kaminaga, just tell us what you saw the lieutenant do before I run out of patience.” Hatano focused his eyes, and held up a book at eye-level, aiming it directly at the other spy.

Kaminaga was a born gossip. Despite rather a casual appearance and the stance in which he approaches the other spies, he has a very useful skill: his impeccable sense of hearing. However, his subordinates prefer to call it a criminal offense (and impulsive eavesdropping). If in one morning, a paper-boy were to clash with an elderly woman from a town miles away, news of it would eventually arrive in Kaminaga’s ear by that afternoon.

“I’d like to correct you by revealing _who_ he did.”

Expressions of confusion and mild disgust grouped up against Kaminaga.

”Ah, you must hear me out. I saw Sakuma-san enter the restaurant I was tasked to inspect for surveillance. I was planning to create some small talk as he approached closer when I had realised that strangely enough, he had company. Female company.”

“My, my, I’d never have thought the Lieutenant to be such a ladies’ man. Though, he does have his individual charms. Has he not, Miyoshi?” Tazaki directed his last comment at Miyoshi, and all the spies present turned to the latter. Knowing smirks crept upon the surrounding men.

The spotlighted spy was sat by himself on a small table for two, reading a book of his preference. The ticking of the old wall clock encompassed the sudden lack of masculine voices, with every minute being followed by the turn of a page. He enjoyed reading.

“Mi—“

“I heard Tazaki well and clear. Why must you necessarily require _my_ input for Sakuma-san? I do not have any interests in the man, and frankly, I have taken up a new assignment so I am far too occupied to be dealing with these meaningless things.”

“You are the closest to him out of all of us, are you not?” Replied Jitsui, with a small smile not intending any sort of sarcasm or remark.

A brow began to crease in the targeted male’s face, breaking the beautiful calm of his expression. He closed the book with one hand and placed it on the table, muttering a number to himself. Presumably, the last page he read, marking it in his mind for a later time.

“Closest to whom?”

Everyone faced the door, and there stood the subject of their entire conversation, brows lazily raised in anticipation of a response, and appearance looking surprisingly- well, very **_not like Sakuma-san_**.

When he entered the kitchen, his full attire was revealed: a crumpled shirt with buttons undone and sleeves rolled up, fabric which looked his tie was shoved into his right trouser pocket, and a coat held uncaring in his grasp. But that wasn’t what silenced the spies. There, upon his jawline was a stain of a reddish hue, a stain which seemed to take form of a woman’s lips. Amari whistled.

”Good evening, Sakuma-san. Rough day?” Kaminaga chuckled. 

Ignoring the comment, Sakuma walked awkwardly towards the cabinet, dropping his coat on a chair as he passed. He poured himself a large glass of beer and drank it all in one go, causing a small stream of the alcohol to slip down his neck and become absorbed by white fabric, dampening it. Eight pairs of eyes watched his every move, each drawing their own conclusions.

Sakuma wasn’t clueless. He knew very well that all eyes were on him, but he didn’t like to display his embarrassment- and so he didn’t. He simply stood there, allowing the strong bite of the liquid to dull his senses. With the little ounce of pride that endured his previous experiences of humiliation, the man left the glass stranded in the sink and turned around, hand raised to partially cover his closed eyes. It was a foolish action, he thought. He sighed.

What startled him was the response of another sigh, this one intending it to be perceived more as an annoyance than Sakuma’s uneasiness.

“ _Lieutenant_.”

He lowered the hand which obstructed the view of the man in front of him and opened his eyes. His most memorable spy stood proud before him, highlighting his trademark upturn of the lip, and those brown eyes remained forever mischievous. The soldier took this moment to observe the spy. He noticed many things, - from the textured and fitting maroon waistcoat, to the golden shine of his wristwatch which he somehow knew was too tight for its owner. He did this often. Too often that he would drown anything else in a viscous silence.

Four gentlemen embarked on their way out of the room, muttering amongst themselves. Others chose to diverge their attention to one another, or simply to their own thoughts. None spoke out during these moments.

“You are not paying attention to me, Sakuma-san.” And the latter was brought back into his reality, where seconds passed too quickly and his obsession would soon be crowned.

“Ah, so I wasn’t.” He paused. He thought. He smiled.

Miyoshi looked at him. A fire was lit.

“Will you forgive my actions, Miyoshi?”

Miyoshi swiftly raised both hands and clutched the collars of his Lieutenant’s collars. Eyes dropped to the kiss mark. Flames flickered.

“That… entirely depends on how you’ll behave next time, Sakuma-san.” Lithe fingers began to button up the soldier’s shirt, each forceful tug bringing the two bodies closer together. “You know, I won’t always be here to look after you.”

Sakuma’s vision darkened, and focused on the only thing before him. The slightest movement fuelling the sinister desire inside him. Greed grew gloriously and engulfed the savage man whole. He saw two fingers enter a mouth and a few seconds later, he saw the fingers exit with heavy coatings of slick saliva. Tentative wetness met his jaw, and he leaned into the touch which caressed him. The sounds he heard were erotic, the gentleness became ruthless, and it commenced to burn his skin. Eventually, the salivation had long worn off and another liquid replaced its absence. A singular fingernail dug into the small wound.

Sakuma wrenched the spy’s wrist away from his face, his gut instinct warning him of further damage.

” _Blut_.” Miyoshi spoke, and his eyes softened.

The Lieutenant expressed his confusion when he heard the use of a foreign tongue, but decided against questioning him. It was a component of his job to remain quiet. He thought again, this time with more intensity.

”Why did you do it?” Sakuma let go of his hold on Miyoshi, the arm falling uselessly to his side.

This shattered Miyoshi’s unnatural gaze and his eyes widened by a fraction. His thoughts began to clash against one another, his mind processing Sakuma’s question and exploding with an array of interpretations. Did what? Strain stretched deep across his face, and his heartbeat quickened. _Did I do something wrong?_

A strong hand gripped Miyoshi’s face -fingers deep in his hollow cheeks- and jerked it upwards. Uncertainty met the gaze of resolve.

”Answer me.” Commanded his Lieutenant.

”Ah—it, your face, that mark. Sakuma-san, you shouldn’t be displaying such a lascivious side of you like this! I did it to wipe it way before Colonel Lt. Yuuki would set his eyes upon it. Apologies for harming you, it was an accidental sleight of hand. I’ll treat that for you so…would you let go? Let me go.” His voice wavered at the final sentence.

Seconds passed, and in the quiet, you could hear the low drone of the rain that fell outside. Sakuma obliged. But he wasn’t pleased with the response. His brows furrowed in frustration.

”That… wasn’t what I was asking about, Miyoshi.” He distanced himself from the shorter man, shoulders briefly touching as he walked past. He wasn’t pleased.

No words were exchanged between the two as Sakuma picked up his coat from the chair, noticing that it had a white sheet of folded paper inside the pocket, but he gave it no mind. He reached the door frame and stopped in his tracks. He sighed again and spoke.

”Your next posting—where?”

”Germany.”

”When?”

”In 11 days.”

The Lieutenant left and shut the door behind him whilst the spy encompassed the art of stillness.

**das Ende.**


End file.
